


Concentrated Heartbreak

by quietx



Series: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Haikyuu Angst Week 2020, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Kozume Kenma, Unrequited Love, star disease, streamer kodzuken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietx/pseuds/quietx
Summary: This is the third time in as many weeks that Kenma has left the city for the weekend. Hinata doesn't know if he can go on like this.[Haikyuu Angst Week 2020: Day 5. Star Tears Disease]
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Series: Haikyuu Angst Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993993
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Concentrated Heartbreak

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! I'm so happy to be kicking off Angst Week this year with this fic! This does have some semi-body horror, with star tears disease, so be warned of that! Thanks for reading, and please enjoy!
> 
> (i use they/them pronouns for Kenma throughout this story, jsyk!)

This is the third time in as many weeks that Kenma has left the city for the weekend. They have to go for “business” but they always avoid giving details when Shoyo asks about it. He knows, too, that Kodzuken’s fans have started complaining that they stopped their Saturday streams without any announcement. 

Shoyo said goodbye to them at the door, and for the first time, they turned away Shoyo’s goodbye kiss. 

He’s always been so careful to respect Kenma’s boundaries. They have off days and on days when they don’t want to be touched, and days when they ask Shoyo to only whisper, because their head is killing them. It’s an arrangement they both agreed to when Shoyo moved into Kenma’s condo. 

Except this wasn’t an ask. It wasn’t a ‘Shoyo, I can’t handle that today,’ or even a ‘That makes me uncomfortable right now.’ They’d _pushed_ him away, and when they saw Shoyo’s stricken face, rushed an apology and slammed the door on their way out. 

Which leaves Shoyo right here, on Sunday morning. He’s sitting at their stupidly nice dining room table, staring vacantly at his plate of scrambled eggs and green tea, finally letting all of this sink in. 

He hates that he’s crying into his breakfast, but he can’t stop the wobbling of his bottom lip, the tightness in his throat, or the tears that finally, finally fall onto the rim of his plate. _Splat._

Shoyo doesn’t know how long he lets the tears fall. But the sound changes at some point. From the _pat, pat_ of tears hitting the plate to the sound of _clink, clink, clink._

He allows himself a moment of awareness, only to find tiny, delicate pieces of crystal that have landed on his plate. They glitter blue-white in the mid morning light pouring in from the windows. 

Suddenly, he’s overwhelmed with a stab of pain and realization. 

_They don’t love me._

And that’s the truth of it, isn’t it? It’s never been about the weekend trips or the burying themself in their work, or randomly seeming to fall asleep on the couch playing games even though they’d _always_ made a point to sleep in a real bed before. Even if that meant dragging the Switch along to play until they passed out beside Shoyo. 

“Don’t you want to come to bed, Kenma?” he’d asked, one evening after getting bored of watching them play on the Playstation. 

“I think I’ll sleep out here, instead.” 

“Oh, okay.”

He’d brushed it off in the moment, but that was a _rejection,_ wasn’t it? They didn’t want to be near Shoyo. They’d rather sleep out here with lumpy pillows and a throw blanket that’s too short than sleep beside him. 

There’s a pile of star bits sitting on his plate now, mocking him, just proving the feelings he’s been ignoring all this time. 

By the time Kenma returns from their weekend trip, Shoyo is sure he’s thrown out more crystals than most people see in their life. 

He pretends like his eyes aren’t red rimmed and like his vision isn’t blurry when Kenma gives a kiss to his cheek in the kitchen.

“Is there anything specific you want for dinner?” they ask, soft smile on their face. Shoyo allows himself to feel it for a moment. It feels _real,_ in this moment, but he can’t shake that lacking emptiness. It’s not real. It never has been.

“I made some rice,” he shrugs. “We could cook the veggies we have in the fridge. It wouldn’t take long if you’re hungry.” 

“Sounds good,” they hum, seating themself at the barstool. They play on the Switch as Shoyo cooks dinner on the stove. It’s so sweetly domestic that Shoyo decides he can pretend for just tonight. He doesn’t have to think about the pointless weekend trips or the way he was pushed away when he tried to kiss them on Friday before he left or the way the bed feels so empty on the nights Kenma decides to ignore him. 

For tonight, he can pretend that Kenma loves him, and that he always has, crystals be damned. 

* * *

He’s on the phone with Yamaguchi when he realizes that this started much, much earlier than the weekend trips. 

“Honestly, it’s been so nice living with Tsukki.” Yamaguchi’s dreamy sigh makes Shoyo’s stomach tighten. “He’s always so considerate and spends time with me, even if he doesn’t care about what I’m doing. He sat down and watched a _drama_ with me, Sho. Seriously, can you imagine? Tsukki watching a romance drama on a Thursday night. I mean, he played on his phone the entire time, but obviously it was just because he wanted to be close to me, you know?” 

Shoyo hums and nods along with the words coming through the phone. He doesn’t think Kenma has _ever_ shown interest in his interests. Not even his sports science studies, which is literally his entire career at the moment. 

“I can’t imagine that,” Shoyo’s laugh is fake, but he hopes it sounds genuine through the receiver. It’s not a lie, he really can’t imagine Tsukishima of all people sitting down to watch a romance drama. But he’s also having a hard time imagining a partner that _wants_ to spend real quality time with him.

Have they _ever_ spent an evening sitting on the couch watching or playing something that Shoyo wanted to?

No, no. That’s cynical of him. Kenma had visited him a few times when he was living on campus to watch movies with him! Sure, they played on their phone a lot, but Shoyo couldn’t begrudge that. They’d spent great movie nights together back then!

It just hasn’t been recently. Definitely not since Shoyo moved into Kenma’s condo about two months ago. 

“How’s Kenma doing, Hinata?” Yamaguchi asks, snapping Hinata from his thoughts. 

“They’re doing fine,” he answers reflexively. “They’ve been really busy lately, travelling for work on the weekends.”

“Oh, yea? Kuroo came over the other day and said they’ve been visiting on weekends,” Yamaguchi comments.

_Oh. Of course._

“Is that so?” he asks, voice shaky. 

There’s a very, _very_ long pause over the phone as Yamaguchi and Shoyo slowly reflect on what was actually said. 

“Hinata,” Yamaguchi’s voice is quiet and filled with pity. “I’m so sorry…”

This time, when the tears fall, it’s a quiet _tik_ against the coffee table. 

“No, it’s--” he sniffles--”it’s okay. I’ve been anticipating this for a while now, you know? We’re growing apart, I guess.” He tries to smile, to make the content in his voice sound a little more believable even though he knows that it isn’t. 

“Have you talked to them about it? I’m sure that Kenma would be open to a conversation. They’re so reasonable! Maybe you just need to talk it out,” 

He perks up a bit at the idea. “You really think so?”

“Definitely, definitely! Try it out. I’m sure you’ll both work it out.”

* * *

His vision has been getting worse lately. When he woke up this morning, he couldn’t make out the time on his phone screen for several minutes. The light pouring in from the window burned his eyes too. He read, on some random medical advice website, that he would be able to recover as long as he resolved the star tears issue within a month or two. 

It’s been a month now, and he needs to work this out.

His first attempt at starting a conversation with Kenma goes disastrously wrong. 

“So I chatted with Yamaguchi the other day,” he said as they sit down over dinner one evening. 

“Oh, yeah?” they mumble, raising an eyebrow. They’re already shoveling noodles into their mouth, and not paying attention to Shoyo.

“He said that Kuroo appreciates your visits,” Shoyo presses. And, okay, he’ll admit, it’s a _little_ passive aggressive. But he thinks that he’s being more than kind when his partner is literally working to avoid him.

“Yes. I’ve been staying with him during the work trips because he lives nearby.” Kenma’s gaze is flat, and irritable. Shoyo squirms a bit, but presses forward. 

“I just want to know why you didn’t tell me.” He tries to keep his voice assertive, but calm. “I learned it from Yamaguchi, and not from you. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Am I not allowed to go stay with Kuroo? He’s my friend, Shoyo,” they question, setting their chopsticks down and crossing their arms. 

“No, no, of course you are! I love Kuroo, and I know you do too. It just feels like something you could’ve _communicated_ instead of just running off every weekend and only telling me it’s only for work.” He’s quickly becoming defensive, losing his grip on the conversation. If he doesn’t shift his tone soon, there’s no way that this conversation is going to end positively. 

“I don’t see why you care what I do on my work trips. You’ve never seemed to care much about my work, anyway,” they say offhandedly. If Shoyo were a dumber man, he probably would’ve actually believed Kenma’s blase attitude. But he’s _not_ a dumber man, and he knows that Kenma isn’t calm about this. He knows that Kenma’s biting comments are truly meant to hurt. 

“That’s so not true!” he protests. “I’ve asked _endlessly_ to come visit your work and see what you’re working on and you always tell me--”

“I can’t show you what I’m currently working on because I’d have to make you sign an NDA,” they sigh. 

“Exactly! That’s what you say every time. So don’t you _dare_ say that I don’t care!” Shoyo has leaned up in his seat a bit, trying to get into Kenma’s space. 

Kenma rolls their eyes. “It doesn’t matter Shoyo. Let’s just eat.”

Shoyo huffs, but doesn’t press the issue any further. 

It doesn’t hurt when Kenma says they wants to sleep on the couch that night. 

* * *

It’s been two weeks since their first ‘discussion’ turned volatile. 

Shoyo’s sight is only worsening now, and he’s sure that by now, Kenma must’ve seen the crystals around the condo that Shoyo was unable to clean up. They _have_ to know that this relationship is falling apart at the seams. It’s unconcealable at this point. 

Instead of saying anything or stopping the weekend trips, they’ve started buying things for Shoyo. 

First, it was a fancy new soap from a local shop that Shoyo always loved going into. It smelled like apples and cinnamon, and though Shoyo initially appreciated the thought, it felt empty. It was putting a bandaid on cancerous cells and expecting everything to be fine. 

Then, a new sweatshirt. Kenma always keeps the condo freezing cold for whatever reason, and Shoyo is always asking them to turn up the heat. But this too, feels empty. Like a quick fix instead of a compromise. Instead of just turning up the thermostat a degree or two, they buy a sweatshirt. 

_Deal with it,_ the sweatshirt mocks him. 

(Regardless, he wears it.)

The third, and final gift makes Hinata fume.

A ticket to a movie. A _single ticket._ On _Friday._ At 6:30. When Kenma usually leaves for their “work trips” at 7. 

He wants to tear it in half. 

He sits here, at their dining room table with it in front of him. Staring, patiently waiting for Kenma to arrive home, blood at a simmer. 

The click of the front door opening and closing resonates through the apartment. 

Kenma startles a bit when they walk in, surely having expected that Shoyo would’ve left already. 

“Ah, Shoyo. You’re still here,” they comment from the door, taking off their shoes and dropping their bag. There’s no irritation or shock in their voice, and somehow that irritates Shoyo even more. 

“If you want to break up with me, you should just say so.”

Kenma has taken two steps into the room, but at this, they stop dead in their tracks. 

“Why would you say that?”

“Kenma, you bought me a movie ticket so you wouldn’t have to see me after work. You’re going out on fake work trips every weekend. Just _tell me_ that you don’t want me, Kenma.” He can feel his eyes watering, but he can’t cry yet. 

Kenma’s face shifts to irritation, and they turn to leave again. 

Shoyo stands up to follow after them, and slips, falling to his knees. Tears begin to flow with crystals falling to the ground. 

Kenma’s expression shifts to horrified at the sight of the crystals. “Sh—Shoyo, I—“

“Did you ever love me, Kenma?” he asks, voice a whimper of a sob, punctuated by the _tak, tak, tak_ of concentrated heartbreak hitting the ground as the tears fall. 

Kenma is standing above Shoyo’s pathetic form on the ground. Their sneakers are clean, freshly purchased from his trip out, and they grip the strap of their bag at their chest, horror in their honey brown eyes. 

“Shoyo, you know I care about you,” they try, crouching to Shoyo’s eye level. 

Quickly, Shoyo’s red-rimmed gaze snaps up at them, with intensity that they can only recall seeing on the court back in high school. 

“Did you _ever_ love me, Kenma?” he repeats. 

They wish they could say yes. 

Instead, Kenma averts their gaze, and pulls away further from Shoyo. Shoyo doesn’t waver, instead letting out a shaky, sorrow-brittle sigh. 

“That’s what I thought.” His voice has gone vacant. The tears have stopped now, as he now stares at the floor, soul poured out and bared before them. 

Kenma stands again, unable to cope with the damage done. Their sneakers squeak on the tile, and the sound rattles around the empty, cold condo like a death toll for their relationship.

“I’m sorry, Shoyo. I—I’ve always cared about you. I think you’re _amazing,_ but I just—”

“No, it’s fine, Kenma.” Shoyo looks up again, straining his neck, tears filling his eyes again. “I’ll be out of your apartment before you come back.”

Kenma stands there, staring for a long time. 

When they finally leave, Shoyo gets up to pack his things. 

He hopes his eyes will fully heal. If not, they’ll end up being another personal casualty owed to Kenma. 

Shoyo idly wonders if there’s a game achievement for that.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me on twitter! @catomiomi


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